Daddy's Girl

I favoured him with my cheekiest grin. 'Whatever do you mean?'

'I mean that you very inappropriately spent the night in bed with me. And I was drunk. Anything could have happened.'

My grin faded a little. Was it pretence or did he really not know that I'd . . . I'd . . .

'You shouldn't have done it,' he went on, simultaneously smiling and stern. 'And are you naked under that nightdress?'

'I've got my knickers on,' I assured him, 'so don't get yours in a twist.'

His eyes flicked down to my tits (very visible through the thin black negligee) then, maybe influenced by my rock hard nipples, bounced back up to my face.

'Didn't you say something about Sainsbury's,' he said. 'Shouldn't you be getting a shower before we set off?'

'I suspect you need a shower more than I do,' I said archly, 'if you know what I mean. Wash away all the evidence, and that.'

His cheeks flushed but he didn't bite. 'It's ladies first,' he said, 'off you run, young madam.'

I made a show of getting out of bed, letting my very short nightdress ride up and very subtly (I think!) jiggling my boobs.

'Aren't you going to come and scrub my back?' I asked provocatively, now sure he knew he'd cum in his sleep, even if he really was unaware of my part in the build-up.

'Off you run,' he repeated. 'We've already been inappropriate enough.'

Chapter Seven

I had hoped Daddy might join me in the shower after all, but he didn't. As I soaped and rinsed myself I wondered if he was busy checking the bedsheets for stains. And I wondered what he might find if he did. Bringing him off had been fun but ever-so slightly unsatisfactory. I hadn't got eyes-on what came out or where it went.

Apart from that first splash over my hand, of course. And eyes hadn't been involved in that, had they?

Sad but true.

Seeing as I'm telling the whole truth, I will confess that I considered jilling in that shower. But, showing superhuman self-control, I resisted the impulse. Feeling holier than thou, washed cleaner than clean, I emerged from the glass cubicle and towelled myself dry.

Then I examined my few items of clothing. The black bra was impeccable, the black knickers less so. In fact the black knickers were distinctly soggy; I must have got a lot more satisfaction out of Daddy's cum than I'd realized. And there were snail-like semen trails on my gauzy negligee. Daddy's emission must have caught me in passing.

Unless those were my own cummy fingerprints.

Drying on the fabric instead of seeping into it . . .

Scowling, deciding I could re-use the bra and replace everything else, I considered the lie of the land. Daddy knew (I was sure that he knew) but he was unlikely to let on. So, if Muhammad wouldn't come to the mountain . . .

'Bathroom's free,' I called brightly, stepping out naked into the corridor, bra, panties and negligee in hand. 'It's all yours.'

Instead of heading for the spare room I stayed there, outside the bathroom, facing away from Daddy's bedroom, waiting for him.

Sure enough, perhaps a minute after my cheery call, his door opened.

Springing into life, I strutted along the corridor like the world's biggest whore, sashaying and wiggling my ass for all it was worth, pretending I'd just finished my ablutions and fooling nobody.

I could feel Daddy's greedy eyes on me every strutting step of the way.

'Oh,' I said coquettishly, half-turning, giving him a gratuitous view of my tits as well as my behind, 'I'm so sorry if I'm being less than appropriate again.'

Inside the spare room, throwing my unwanted clothing just anywhere, I waited until I heard the shower spring back to life. Then, after counting to thirty in hundreds, I went back to the bathroom.

'Apologies,' I cried, bursting in there without any to-do, 'I forgot to brush my teeth.'

'For God's sake, Nat,' Daddy groaned, twisting his body away from me, not giving a front-on view.

I laughed. 'Don't call me by my Sunday name. We have slept together, remember? Call me Blossom or even Bloss.'

'Bloss?'

By then I was at the sink, giving my teeth the most thorough brushing they'd ever had.

'Lotus . . . Blossom . . . whatever; you shouldn't be in here and you know it.'

That did it for me. I dumped my toothbrush in the suspended plastic cup that held Daddy's and strode over to the shower cubicle.

'Turn to face me,' I said in my best Miss Whiplash voice.'

'No,' said Daddy, cowering away, giving me a steamed up view of his ass and nothing more.

Sighing theatrically, as sexually excited as I'd ever been, I yanked open the cubicle's glass door.

'No,' Daddy gasped.

As if I would take any notice of his so insincere objections! I shoved my way inside and shut us away from the world, my arms immediately circling his turned-away body.

And oh my God, wasn't he aroused!

I caused that, I thought gleefully. This time Daddy is up exclusively for me!

'I helped you on your way last night,' I said, 'and I'm buggered if I'm not going to help you again now.'

Daddy whimpered but didn't physically object when my hand closed on his rigid cock.

'Relax and enjoy,' I said softly. 'Relax and leave it to me.'

*****

Without giving too much away, Daddy did finally relax and I went down on my knees and sucked him off. Now sucking a guy off is not normally my favourite pastime. Sucking Daddy was far from a chore, though. I already said his cock was big but its size extended to great width as well as length. And the slightly curved shape of it was awesome. Trust me: sucking on him was no hardship.

And having him cum in my mouth wasn't far short of miraculous.

'No,' he murmured as I stayed on my knees on the white tiles, going for more. ''No Natalie, enough is enough.'

The use of "Natalie" in that particular tone was always a warning sign. Mother used it as a deterrent all the time, so much so it had lost impact. But Daddy's far rarer use was a caution indeed.

Instantly obedient, I let go of his still-hard cock.

'Please don't hate me,' I muttered, my eyes lowered, avoiding his.

'I don't hate you,' he replied. 'I love you; maybe I love you too much.'

Then he brushed past me and exited the cubicle, leaving me under a cascade of water.'

*****

One of my great strengths is resilience. No way could I kneel forever in a shower cubicle, feeling sorry for myself. Maybe five minutes after Daddy left I hauled myself upright.

'Fuck, fuck, fuck,' I muttered as I towelled for a second time, briefly rubbing over my hair without really drying it.

It was decision time; big decision time.

Should I pretend nothing had happened between us? Should I simply admit defeat and walk away?

Should I hellers like!

A prim and proper lady might have put some clothes on before following her vulnerable daddy into his bedroom. Seeing as I'd left my (mostly) soiled clobber in the spare room I went as I was: stark bollock naked.

Daddy was once more on his back on the bed, his modesty protected by a towel. This time, aided by daylight, I noticed that the thick hair on his chest had a distinct element of grey in it. Not that it made him seem old and infirm; no, it only added to his allure.

A fully mature, grown man like him had allure seeping out of every pore.

'We can't leave it like this,' I began boldly, 'we're unfinished business.'

Daddy's arm wasn't over his eyes now. He was staring vacantly up at the ceiling. 'Blossom,' he said, 'I can't let this go on.'

Closing the door behind me, I forced out a husky chuckle.

'Don't be negative,' I said. 'You might not be able to let this go on, but guess what . . .'

Chapter Eight

The seduction didn't actually take a lot of effort. I climbed onto the bed beside Daddy and gave him a long, slow kiss. At first he didn't much respond but, inside a minute or so, he went into major passion overload. Instinctively straddling him, I gave him passion back in spades and . . .

Well, within a matter of moments I'd thrown the towel aside and was hold of his very impressive cock. And right then sucking could not have been further from my mind. No, I had a hot, hungry void inside of me and could only think of one way to fill it.

Bugger blowjobs and hand-jobs, the time had come . . . and big-time at that.

'Blossom,' Daddy gasped.

Ignoring him, not needing negativity, I steered his swollen cock into my equally swollen pussy. Not so deeply at first, just three or maybe four inches of him . . . and finding him deliciously cold. That was me, I reckoned: he wasn't really icy, I was incredibly hot.

Yes: hot, hot, hot!!

Wanting more, I shuffled my buttocks, repositioning myself, instantly sinking him all the way in.

Talk about sheer joy!

I came straightaway but was still zillions of miles short of being sated. Savagely hungry, I bounced up and down on his tower of power, impaling myself again and again, bumping my pelvic bones with his; delighting in the loud liquid sounds we were producing.

'Yes, yes, yes,' I cried. 'Fuck me, yes!!'

Then, another couple of orgasms later, I threw myself onto my back.

'Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,' I urged.

Seeing shadows of doubt in his eyes I grabbed him, pulling him on top of me.

'Don't think,' I practically snarled. 'Just do it. Fuck thinking; fuck me instead.'

My hand was on his cock yet again. He was directly over me, easily supporting that hunky body of his on exceedingly muscly biceps. Steering him in again was a piece of cake. He achieved re-entry even more smoothly than Apollo 11.

'Jesus yes,' I whimpered.

Daddy took three leisurely, utterly delicious strokes and then paused.

'Don't think,' I as good as screamed, 'just you do it, do it, do it!'

Thank God and all the angels, Daddy obediently resumed his deep, delicious strokes. And each one was better that the last. Even as I was, transported halfway to Heaven, I was greedy enough to egg him on.

'Don't think,' I bawled at him, 'just do it, do it, do it!'

Daddy did it and did it. Daddy fucked me for ages and he fucked me so very well! And I did my bit too. I dug my heels into the mattress and bucked up to meet every thrust, dancing eagerly to his tune.

Oh my God, what sweet music we made together.

That lovely big cock moving in me, all but withdrawing before plunging deeply back in: the dull bump of our bones and the sharp slap of his balls on the cheeks of my bum; the never ending squelching as we went on and on.

Mozart never composed anything like that!!

(As a sort of afterthought, his crinkly, hairy chest moving on my tits was a wonder to behold. So also was every last element of our bodily contact. Cock in pussy was best, but there wasn't anything wrong with any of the rest of it; oh no, not at all!)

Time was meaningless. Don't ask me how long. As I just said, it was ages . . . maybe even ages and ages. I came lots of times but Daddy kept going like a Duracell bunny. Then, call it instinctive if you will, I got that feeling; the one a girl gets when her man is nearing his ultimate fireworks show.

Afraid he would withdraw at the last second I unanchored my heels and wrapped my legs around him, locking them tight behind his back.

There, I thought triumphantly, there's no escaping me now.

My ability to counterthrust was restricted, as was that slap, slap, slapping of you know what, but the bedsprings still did their thing. Not that I stopped doing my bit altogether. No, leaving the increasing fierce penetrations to Daddy, I began rotating myself in a spiralling sort of a way.

And didn't that work! It felt as if Daddy's enormous cock was stimulating every last square millimetre inside of me, getting them all on the way in and getting them all again on the way out. Maybe I'd got supersensitive but I was absolutely certain that I could feel the skin moving on his wonderful weapon of war. In my imagination every last one of my squillions of nerve endings was reacting with all of his. Primitive electric signals were flashing to and fro between us as we rejoiced in the most basic union of all.

Yes, squillions of nerve endings exchanging zillions and zillions of intimate messages.

'Bloss,' he gasped. 'Bloss, I'm going to . . .'

'Don't think, just do it,' I countered, gasping myself by then.

And still Daddy kept going while I gyrated frantically beneath him.

'Oh God, yes,' he said . . . at last!

I squealed as he pushed all the way inside me and squirted. That made every single muscle beneath my neck contract violently.

'Fuck me, yes,' I managed.

Daddy pulled most of the way out, re-entered and squirted more copiously, making me screech.

'Fuck me, yes, yes, yes!' My words didn't really do justice to my second set of muscle contractions. To be honest, no words could have done.

Then Daddy did it again, squirting even more copiously, and I lost it altogether.

*****

Finally, after sharing perhaps ten minutes' worth of petite mort, we lay locked together and still.

'That was fucking incredible,' I told Daddy. Then, seeing the concern in his eyes, I added: 'No regrets, now. We're consenting adults and what's done is done.'

To my surprise he asked me if I was on the pill.

'I have been for years,' I assured him, laughing. 'And aren't you supposed to ask before, not after?'

'You told me not to think, so I didn't.'

'Oh I see. It would have been my fault, would it? If I hadn't been, I mean.'

My feet were getting pins and needles so I unlocked them and rearranged my legs. Daddy took that as chance to slide off me, his still-hard cock popping out with an audible plop. I chuckled as half a pint of sloppy juices immediately followed. Daddy looked at me curiously.

'I really am safe from pregnancy,' I said, 'which is just as well because we're going to be fucking each other for most of the weekend.'

'Your language hasn't improved since you left home,' he observed. 'And we still have shopping to do.'

Out of me, his cock had started to deflate. When I took hold of it again it swiftly hardened.

(Or should that be re-hardened?)

'Shopping can wait,' I said. 'Me and Cupid's Arrow here can't.'

'Blossom,' he began.

'Shush,' said I, 'don't think, just do.'

'Do what?' he said after another pause.

'Do whatever you thought you might do to me in your sleep.'

His eyes had a strange look in them. 'Natalie . . .'

'I'm Blossom,' I said, cutting him off. 'Now don't think, just do.'

So he did.

Chapter Nine

I flatly refused to discuss the legal and moral aspects of our new relationship. Daddy tried to talk them through with me but I stuck to the "consenting adults" tack. I also said I'd wanted to fuck him for a long time and wasn't about to regret anything. I did, however, agree when he said we should be careful in how we interacted in public.

Bold I might be; stupid never.

'I don't do lovey-dovey,' I told him. 'And having our own little secret will add to the fun.'

'Nat . . . Blossom; you don't honestly think we'll ever be doing this again?'

'You bet we will. Until you develop a love life I'll be visiting you regularly.'

He sighed at that and shook his head. His throbbing cock, however, told a different story. He may not have wanted to fuck me before that Saturday morning, but he did now.

Oh yes, didn't he just!

*****

Our "first thing in the morning" visit to Sainsbury's actually happened first thing in the afternoon. We'd better things to do before shopping, you see. We'd better things to do after as well, come to that. Plan was to fill a trolley then grab a pub lunch, and then to go back to the penthouse for an extended wine and sex session.

Yes, I'd banned Glenmorangie, wanting to keep Daddy awake as long as possible.

Three-quarters of the way round the supermarket I decided cheese and crackers would go down well later. Leaving Daddy in charge of the trolley, I headed back to the dairy section, lingering student-like, torn between Cheshire and Wensleydale. Then, remembering that I wasn't actually paying for once, I grabbed a pack of each and another one of Lancashire.

When I caught up with Daddy he was still in the health and beauty aisle, talking to a tall, well-dressed woman. As I approached I realized it was Mother's next-desk neighbour from work. I'd met her a few times before and had noticed how she always devoured Daddy with her eyes, even with Mother there at his side. Now, catching him alone for the first time, she'd obviously pounced.

Daddy didn't seem to mind being pounced on, though. He was hanging on to her every word.

Can't say I blame him, I thought, the woman's seriously fit.

Doreen had short black hair and a face that didn't need a lot of beauty products. I guessed her age at perhaps forty and reckoned she'd used less slap and lippy in her life than Mother used in a week.

And my God, was I sexually assessing a fellow woman? Jude aside, that wasn't supposed to happen, was it?

'She's been at it for years,' Doreen was saying as I put the packs of cheese in our shopping trolley, smirking when I noticed the packet of twenty condoms I'd got for Daddy "just in case" he got "lucky".

Maybe he already had!

'I'm not surprised you've left her,' Doreen went on. 'And I know what you must be going through. I've been there myself. If you ever need someone to talk to . . .'

I quite unsubtly put a second packet of twenty Durex into our trolley.

Noticing me for the first time, Doreen smiled my way. 'Why it's little Natalie, all grown up. I thought you were away at Thingumajig University.'

'I am. I came back to offer moral support.'

'Not to your mother, I hope.'

'No, don't worry; I know precisely who's at fault.'

Turning back to Daddy Doreen suggested they swapped mobile numbers. He obliged in a flash.

'Told you so,' I said when she'd moved on.

'I'm not even looking at women right now,' he said before blushing for the umpteenth time in the last twenty-four hours.

'Maybe not yet,' I replied. 'But as soon as I'm gone, you will be.'

*****

The rest of the weekend went as planned. Locked away in the penthouse we drank wine, nibbled on cheese and crackers and had lots and lots of sex. I won't bore you with the details, but Daddy was a very virile man; we fucked and sucked and ate each other with gusto.

(Remember I mentioned at one point being sad I hadn't got eyes-on what came out of him or where it went? Well I resolved that issue on Saturday afternoon in the lounge . . . on the settee, if you want me to be precise. And it went on my bare tummy, if you really do need to know.)

Daddy was brilliant at eating, by the way. I suspect that he sometimes dragged it out while Cupid's Arrow recovered from fucking me, but I wasn't complaining about that. Not when he was so good with his lips and tongue and teeth. Not when his fingers could play magical tunes inside my pussy. And not when he could use both his fingers and tongue at the same time.

Inside and out . . . and all at once!

Him having me for Sunday breakfast was even better than the big fry-up I later prepared for us.

As I write this it's Wednesday. I got a train back to uni late Sunday afternoon, arriving home in time to find Jude in bed with Tom and Dick. Declining the offer of making up a four (as if they were playing a round of golf!), I had an early night. I had an early night on Monday, too, not sharing Jude's bed until Tuesday . . . as I will be doing again tonight, maybe fifteen minutes from now.

On Friday I'm heading north once more, but in a controlled fashion. I won't skip lectures and I won't waste time visiting "home" when the early evening train gets me there. Instead I'll meet Daddy in the nearest pub to Cookie's place. It's already arranged. We're going to have bar snacks and a few beers before we go fuck each other brain dead.

He hasn't called Doreen yet. Leastways that's what he told me when I rang earlier. Mission One for the coming weekend is, therefore, to make him get in touch with her before I leave.